G&T's story
by PenelopePotter28
Summary: A look behind the true Gunther and Tinka and the origin of these foreign twins. Read and you may be surprised what you discover...
1. Chapter 1

Tinka finished washing her face and looked up.

There it was. The mirror.

It was always there. It had always been there, ever since she had been tall enough to see into it, always there when she looked up. It had betrayed her year after year, and today was no exception.

She beholded her face in its full glory. The bruises, the scars, the dribble of blood from the wound she had just washed.

How did she let this happen?

Well, it started when she was about two...

When she and her twin brother, Gunther, were two, their parents took them to a restaurant for dinner. Tinka was so excited, truthfully, she wet herself. She cried. Her dad took her aside and wrapped his jacket around her before taking her off to the bathroom. It soaked through. She knew she had ruined his jacket. He took her to the bathroom and to the toilet. She turned around for a moment to look at him, and saw his fist coming. It struck her and the pain was unbearable. She cried out and he hit her again. It was about that time that Gunther toddled in innocently and he started hitting her brother too. He hit them both until her lip bled and Gunther's face was a burning red. Then he made them wipe their tears and walk out like everything was normal.

Then there was the move to America. At five years old, they were rather young. The night before, Tinka had taken a beating. On the morning of the move, she couldn't wake up. Gunther took her and hugged her tight until she finally gasped and opened her eyes. She told him, "Gunther, I'm scared. Daddy's so mean."

He responded, "Don worry Tink. I keep you okay."

They flew off that afternoon. On the plane they discovered a make-up that hid the scars. They decided at such a young age to get it when they could, because they hated when the people on the plane stared at them. It made them think it was their fault.

Tinka (being sort of able to read) memorised the name of the make up. ClearWay. She looked over it again and again until she could close her eyes and see the shapes perfectly in her mind.

When they got to America, the beatings only got worse. Still, they learned to cover up and to slip a tub of ClearWay into their mother's shopping cart when they saw it at stores, only to slip it out of grocery bags in the car.

Sometimes their beatings were equal. Sometimes Gunther got it worse. But somehow, the big (by twenty minutes) brother always made sure Tinka never received more punches, hits, or kicks than he did.

When they were nine, they had just gotten their nightly beating and they were feeling the harmless-yet-painful aftersting of the ClearWay on the fresh wounds behind the garage when Gunther took Tinka's hands and said, "Let's escape."

Being nine, they took the whim. They slipped food in their pockets and ran off into the night.

They got seven blocks before a police car stopped them. The poor policeman thought he was helping them by bringing them back home. But when they got there, they simply received the worst beatings of their lives.

Tinka blacked out for a few minutes. When she came to, Gunther was on the floor in a pool of blood. On the garage floor. They were in the garage.

The whole time they were there, Tinka alternated between hugging Gunther and praying for him. Finally, he woke up. They had been there for three days. They stole back into the house, and the next day everything returned to normal.

They lived there. Until they were thirteen. The beatings only got worse and worse as they grew up. Sometimes they were so bad that one twin couldn't go to school (three times it had been Gunther, once it had been Tinka) and they made an excuse to be without their different-sex double. They became dependent of each other. They did everything together. They dressed alike. They seemed, to the outside world, to grow mean, but they were simply scared. Scared that someone would find out. Scared that they would stare like they did on the plane. Scared that they would just send them home like the policeman. Scared.

The night before, it had been especially bad. The beating had lasted until 5 AM. Neither twin could sleep afterward. It was time to get ready for school.

Tinka stared at herself in the mirror. Gunther walked into the bathroom.

"We can't keep hiding."


	2. Chapter 2

_I haven't really given the beginning of the episode much thought. Basically, Cece did something and her mother punishes her by forbidding her to dance on the show this week. Later, Rocky is comforting her, but Tinka comes up and starts teasing them._

"Just button it, Tinka," Rocky told the blonde.  
>"Why should I?" she asked.<p>

"Well at least your mother loves you!" Cece, still upset about her mother taking her off Shake It Up Chicago for the week, cried.

Tinka, surprisingly, didn't retaliate. She instead gave a startled, scared look, and suddenly turned on her heel and ran off. As she went down the halls, the two friends could hear her starting to cry.

I strode over to them. "Perhaps you should apoligise," I said calmly. "She's been through more than you know."

I then turned and went as Tinka had gone before me, seeking her.

That's how they found us not long after. We were just outside the school, sitting on a bench. I was holding Tinka, comforting her, murmuring that it would be alright. She was still crying.

"Tinka," Cece's voice came from behind us. I turned my head. Tinka, without looking back, said, "Go away."

To the two girls, I mouthed, "Come sit with us." They did.

"Tinka," Cece started over. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd make you this upset."

"Why are you crying?" Rocky, ever the sweetheart, asked gently.

"I can't tell you," Tinka responded, still crying.

"Why not?" Rocky pressed. I mentally sighed.

"I just can't!" Tiinka cried out. "Gunther-" She suddenly stopped and got a far-off look on her face, like suddenly realising something. "Gunther!" she cried out in a panicked voice. She raced to check her phone, but she was obviously unhappy with the result. "Gunther hasn't texted. He always texts, every hour. Gunther!" She's getting more and more panicky.

"We'd better go," I say. We rush off, and Rocky and Cece follow behind us.

"Aren't your parents going to wonder why you're not in school?" Cece asked as we whipped down the halls towards Tinka's apartment.

"They're on a business trip," she responded hurriedly.

"Why won't you tell us what's wrong?" Rocky asked again.

"I JUST CAN'T!" Tinka nearly screamed. We entered the apartment. Tinka led us into the bedroom where a shocking sight awaited us.

Gunther was laying in the bed, bloody and bruised. Some of his wounds were clumsily bandaged, but many were open. He wasn't moving, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was ragged.

"Gunther!" Tinka cried, and started to rush to her brother. I held her back, letting my instincts take over.

"Tinka, bandages. Rocky, ice. Cece, take his blankets into the living room." The first two took their tasks in great hurry. The last took it in disgust, as the blankets were covered in blood.

I went over to examine the injured boy. His left leg was broken in two places. He had cuts all over, the worst of which was a deep bleeding gash on his right arm. He was also bruised all over, with a large one cloaking the left side of his face. His breath was barely there now. I checked his color and reached into my pocket. Producing a syringe full of blood, I gently pushed it into his arm. His breathing steadied within a few minutes, and his chest rose and fell more gently.

Cece entered the room just as I tucked the syringe away.

"Will he be okay?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "I hope so."

"Can't you tell?" she asked me.

"Right now we can only hope for the best. But if we lose him, lord knows we'll lose Tinka too."

The redhead nodded in sad agreement.

Soon Tinka and Rocky returned with their respective medical supplies. As I bandaged Gunther's rm, Rocky asked, "How did he get so hurt anyway?"

"I...um..." Tinka said, trying to come up with something, anything.

Suddenly, Gunther opened his eyes and called out a hoarse, plaintive "Tinka."

"I'm here, Gunther." She went to her brother's side.

I turned to the still-confused set of friends. "Rocky. Boards. 2 feet. Lightweight. Four of them, maybe. Cece. Rope. Strong. A good ten feet."

The two looked at me, puzzled, before running off. I continued bandaging Gunther's wounds, icing the large bruise on his face. He winced when the cold touched the sore spot, and I looked up to Tinka.

"Antiseptic or turmeric. Your choice."

Tinka left the room. I slowly bandaged Gunther's torso. "I think you might have a few broken ribs," I told him, "and I order you to stay in this bed, no getting up, no nothing, until they're healed."

"When will that be?" Gunther asked. He clutched his ribs from pain.

"When you can sit up without pain in your torso," I told him, my hands scanning my own torso as if to demonstrate.

He tried to sit up, failed, and started coughing and clutching his ribs. When he finally stopped, I ordered, "Rest."

Tinka, Rocky, and Cece returned with their supplies. I began making a splint for Gunther's broken leg.

"I still don't get it. What happened to Gunther? How did he get this injured?" Rocky asked in her serious tone, oe hand balled in a fist resting on her hip.

Tinka's eyes flitted to her twin. He nodded and said, "It's okay. Tell them."

Tinka sighed. "It was our parents. They hurt us. Hit us. Abuse us."

"Oh my gosh," the friends breathed. I nodded solemnly.

"Last night was...particularly bad," the blonde girl continued. "They took off early this morning. They won't be back for weeks. Th-"

A sob strangled the last word from her, and she cried again. We all comforted her.

After some time, I said, "We should make some lunch. We're missing it at school."

Rocky, Cece and I left the twins alone as we went to the kitchen. "Wait!' Rocky said, distressed. "We're missing school! My perfect attendance record!"

I calmed her. "Rocky. You were counted present second period. The rest of the day won't affect you." She relaxed.

"I can't believe it," Cece said. "All those times we made fun of them...well, I mean, they did it to us, and they always started it, but still, I feel bad." She looked to me. "Heather, you knew all this time and didn't tell anyone?"

I sadly shook my head. "Tinka—when she told me—made me promise to tell no one. As much as it killed me to, I made the promise. She said that her parents would kill them for sure if they found out someone else knew. Ever since then, she'll always seek out my confidence."

"Why isn't she as hurt as Gunther?" Rocky asked.

"He always makes sure he gets the worst of the beatings. He protects her. There was only one time where she ever got it worse."

"Why don't we ever see their injuries?"

"They use make-up to cover them. They have since they were little."

"I just can't believe it," Cece repeats herself. "I mean, this morning I was so upset. I thought what my mom did was the worst thing a parent could do to a child. But beating them up..."

The microwave beeped. We had somehow made Hot Pockets for five.

By the time we were back in the room, Gunther was propped into a sitting position with pillows. The healer in me wanted to tell him to lie down. The doting mother in me was telling the healer to shut up.

As we sat (on chairs Rocky and I had brought in) we talked.

"We have to do something about this," Cece said. "Ooh! I know, we can-"

"Nope," Rocky interrupted.

"How 'bout we-" Cece tried.

"Nope," Rocky told her.

"Maybe we could-"

"Uh-uh."

"You don't even know what I was gonna say that time," Cece complained.

"Doesn't matter," Rocky told her, crossing her legs and taking a bite of her hot pocket.

"Were you two planning to do anything?" I asked Tinka.

"We were planning on running away," she explained. "We almost had enough money saved up, but..." she trailed off and her eyes slid nervously over to Rocky and Cece."

Rocky saw this. "Oh, was that the money we took to save Miss Nancy's Fancy Dance Academy?"

Gunther nodded.

"Guys, we are so sorry about that," Cece said.

Tinka shook her head. "Oh well. We can save it up again."

Rocky turned to her friend. "We need to help them."

Cece nodded, as though already knowing what the dark-skinned girl was thinking of. Their brains were tuned to the same channel. "How would you like a place to stay for awhile?" Rocky asked.

The look on Tinka's face was one of pure happiness.


End file.
